


Tales from the Unbroken Road

by Namacub95



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Bonding, Character Death, Childbirth, Dawnguard, Drabble Collection, F/M, Family, Fluff, Friendship, Future Fic, Multi, Murder, One Shot Collection, Romance, The Dark Brotherhood - Freeform, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-17
Updated: 2013-06-13
Packaged: 2017-12-08 18:22:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/764533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Namacub95/pseuds/Namacub95
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short stories from the land of Tamriel</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New Comrades

When Argis is assigned to the new Thane of Markarth, at first he is sceptical. 

Firstly, she is a Breton; he trouble with the Forsworn has left him with unease in his gut when he learns this. Second, she is a mage which means he would have to be constantly vigilant; mages were not warmly welcomed in Skyrim and some of the more vocal opponents to the ‘arcane arts’ might try something. 

And when he meets her, he only feels more uneasy.

She is tiny, even by the usual standard, her head barely level with his shoulders and she is so slight that he suspects that a strong gust of wind is all it will take to knock her over. She has darker skin than he had anticipated and dark brown almost black hair tied back from her face, possible Redguard heritage? He doesn’t think to ask.

“Korra.” She introduces herself, a wide genuine smile and a hand to shake “Well, Koralise Volantis, actually but everyone just calls me Korra.”

“Argis, my Thane.” He responds, gripping her outstretched hand only very lightly because in the back of his mind he is fearful he may break it if he squeezes too tight.

“Nice to meet you.” He feels her eyes on his scar and one dead eye, he tries not to scowl or glare at her for it. He’s become used to the strange looks of strangers. Thankfully, she looks away quickly and doesn’t comment “And you don’t have to call me that. Just Korra, if you want.”

He nods at that. Mayhaps she isn’t as bad as his initial thoughts had painted her but he still is not entirely convinced. It was his duty to serve and protect her regardless and serve he would.

\-----------------------------------------

She immediately moves into her new home of Vlindrel Hall and is enthusiastic about it enough for both of them. He tries his best to just stay out of her way as she arranges her new furniture and unloads her impressive and extensive collection of books.

She, however, talks incessantly to him despite his relative silence. 

“I found all of these.” She told him as she stacked the next pile of books into the shelf “You’d be surprised how many books are just lying around out there.” He makes a non-committal grunt at this and she takes it as a sign to continue “Then again, I suppose the mages trying to kill me at the time didn’t much care that much about me picking a couple of books off the shelf. They were far too busy trying to set me on fire.”

That stopped him.

“What?” he asked startled.

Korra looks up at him, her mouth twisted into a confused frown.

“What?” Then she seems to realise that she has said too much and immediately backtracks “It was a while ago and I’m fine, perfectly fine apart from a small scar but it’s not that big, and they’re dead now. Really, no need to panic.”

He wasn’t panicking but he was concerned. It seemed his new Thane wasn’t even popular amongst her fellow mages. That complicated things.

\-----------------------------------------

She announced her intent of returning to the Mage’s College in Winterhold only after a week in Markarth and he is glad to leave the city. He’s never much liked his home, too much politics, backstabbing and Forsworn for his tastes. Even if he is swapping it for a backwater town filled with mages and the Nords who hated them.

Korra, as he has come to understand, is enthusiastic about it. She yammers on and on about all the people and the spells she wants to try out when she gets there and how cold it can get sometimes while he listens and nods where appropriate.

He’s still sceptical about Markarth’s new Thane but he thinks she mightn’t be as bad as he had originally thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first we'll see of Argis and his new charge. 
> 
> I know I really should continue with 'Before Darkwater' and 'The Nightingale's Song' but I don't have as much muse for them and I wanted to write a silly little drabble series made up of whatever pops into my head.
> 
> Rest assured though, updates for those ARE coming.


	2. Vampire Hunter

The vampires didn't know she was there until she had put her sword through the chest of one and sliced the head off another. Then, they panicked.

They charged her, as she had expected. The vampires rarely ever used a different tactic beyond swarming their prey and tearing it apart. Simple, brutal and usually highly effective.

But Signe had been ready for that. She'd fought vampires long enough to know what to do.

She smashed her shield into the first's face, reeling it back as it hissed in pain and turned fast enough to land her sword in the second's side. She kicked the second away, it stumbled before righting itself again, yelling something unintelligible at it's companion. The first darted forward a second time only to be met again with her shield and the heel of her boot when she kicked it away too. She slit the second's throat when it tried to flank, pushing the body away from her turning her attention to the first vampire which was attempting to slink away into the shadows.

The third had disappeared, she noticed then, possibly escaped in the confusion. Smart, she granted, it probably sensed that this fight was not in it's favour. If it had any sense then it would have fled and left the others to die instead. Signe supposed it must have been easier since their hearts had stopped beating and maybe they couldn't feel compassion or loyalty as she did.

She was brought out of her thoughts when she felt cold hands wrapping around her throat and the weight of another body slam her into the floor. 

Signe cursed herself for letting herself get distracted, she knew the cost of a second's lapse and she was lucky that she hadn't had her throat torn out already. She grabbed the fabric of the vampire's armor and threw the creature from her, pushing herself up and sliding an iron dagger from her boot. A failsafe, just in case.

The tables were quickly turned, she rushed forwards before the vampire could scramble to its feet and planted the blade in it's chest. It howled in agony for a brief moment before it lay still. Now there was only a single vampire left.

She stooped to retrieve her fallen shield and sword, slipping them back into their familiar spots on her arm and hip. The last vampire emerged from its hiding spot and charged a final time allowing her to grab it. A sharp jerk and she heard the loud crack which signalled the creature's neck breaking then she let the body fall limp to the ground.

It was over too quickly for her taste. They hadn't stood a chance against her. Vampires weren't worthy of the relatively quick deaths she had given them. The deaths their foul kind hadn't granted her family. 

She could hear the sound of scrambling as remaining one tried to crawl away faster whilst choking on it's own blood, her dagger still protruding from its chest. That one she would let suffer before it's eventual demise. Suffer like her parents must have and her sister too, before she had turned into one of those monstrosities. 

She had taken no pleasure in the fight and no pleasure in the kill. It was a distraction, unnecessary and unwanted. Why should she feel pleasure when she was only performing a duty? Pleasure came with matching her blade against worthy opponents not slaughtering enemies like cattle. There was no bite, no excitement. 

Serana emerged from her own hiding spot. Signe glared at her, she had told her to stay back and keep out of her way whilst she 'dealt with' the problem, but it seemed that this vampire refused to listen. 

Vampire. As if she needed reminding that she was helping one of the kind she despised above all others. 

 _But she's different,_ the stubborn voice in Signe's mind spoke up, _she isn't like the others._

"Come on." she said, brushing past Serana before she had a chance to speak "We need to keep moving."

She didn't want to dwell on vampires anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for some asskicking from Signe.
> 
> Playing through Dawnguard with her was fun XD Especially given the backstory I gave her.


	3. Fall

How could it have gone so wrong?

Mkeersha urged Shadowmere on, faster she rode and faster, she had to get home. To the Sanctuary. She had to warn them all that Maro's men where coming for them. They had been betrayed from within.

Perhaps it was Cicero's last laugh from the Void. He had slipped the plans for the Emperor's assassination to Maro to spite them all before she came for him. She could almost hear the fool's chuckling in the rushing wind as she rode on.

_Did I bring the Wrath of Sithis down upon us? Because I killed the fool? Was this my doing?_

Fear swelled in the Khajiit's chest. Her family was in danger. Maro's men may already be upon them! Mkeersha only hoped that the Sanctuary could withstand a siege.

The Sanctuary was well hidden, secluded and it would take an age to find it if Maro's men didn't know where exactly to look. No one but her brothers and sisters knew the exact location.

_But someone betrayed us._

Rolling hills and mountains finally gave way to the pine forest that she knew best. Down the secret track outside of Falkreath and to the Sanctuary.

The smell of smoke and death assaulted her and she knew then. She was too late. She soon spotted Festus, pinned by half a hundred arrows to a nearby tree. The bile rose in her throat but she forced herself to dismount Shadowmere and enter her ruined home.

_Please, don't let me be too late._

\-----------------------

The inn was quiet that night as it was almost every night. Erik hadn't set foot on an adventure in weeks, not since Mkeersha had disappeared because of 'family business'.

(He knew she was an assassin, though she was careful to hide it, he knew what the uniform of the Dark Brotherhood looked like.)

However, he didn't expect the door to open and the very Khajiit in question to be standing there.

But something was wrong. She wasn't standing, she was all but being supported by the door frame and even from where he was standing he could make out the shine of blood on her fur and armour and the smell of smoke and ash.

"Keesha?" he called to her, his nickname for her since her full name was tricky for him to pronounce correctly. 

At the sound of her name she met his eyes and then fell forwards onto her knees.

She was babbling under her breath when he reached her. Something about a sanctuary and fire and death. What Oblivion had happened to her? 

"Keesha? Keesha! What's wrong? What happened to you?" Erik questioned her, afraid of what the answer may be. Had something happened? The blood and the ash smeared onto her fur, darkening it even more, was almost frightening to see.

Her blue-green eyes were half glazed over when they finally found his face. She gave him a queer sort of smile which made his stomach twist and knot. It wasn't happiness...it looked like the smile of someone who had nothing left to lose.

"They're dead. All of them. Butchered. Slaughtered. All gone. Maro must die. Maro must die!" she stated, hissing the name (he assumed it was a name, anyways) before she collapsed in his arms. 

Unconscious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of my Khajiit assassin. 
> 
> I must admit, I don't like the Dark Brotherhood. It wasn't as enjoyable as any of the other guilds and I found most of the major characters (Astrid and Cicero) very unlikeable. 
> 
> But this part. This part is when I actually felt like killing someone. Mainly Maro because no one kills my bro Veezara and gets away with it! The reaction was shared by my Khajiit.
> 
> (And have some Erik because he's adorable and Mkeersha has a bit of a crush on him)


	4. Birthing Bed

Signe always remembered her mother telling her that a woman's true battle lay in a birthing bed.

At the time, she had scoffed at this. Her mother always insisted that she act like a proper lady instead of a wild hellion. She was destined for actual battles, not bearing children for some faceless nameless man who would be her husband. 

Then she had met Farkas.

Then she had become pregnant and suddenly she wished she'd paid her mother more heed when she had the chance.

She lay too weak to move and screamed as another contraction hit her. She'd felt the first pains the previous afternoon and it was now the small hours of the morning, the first days of dawn beginning to creep through the windows of Breezehome.

By the Nine, it _hurt_! She knew it would be painful and as a warrior she was used to pain from blades and bruises. That she could handle without even a whimper...but this...this was a constant blinding pain that she was helpless against.

Danica was saying something to her but she barely registered it. The woman was the only healer in Whiterun who knew enough about delivering children to help her. In fact, the woman insisted on being the one to deliver the Dragonborn's child into the world. Signe didn't have the heart to argue.

"Just two more pushes, love." Farkas murmured encouragingly  in her ear "You can do it. Just two more." 

She was glad that he hadn't left her, instead he sat behind her, bearing her weight against his chest and gripping her hand. She heard some men couldn't handle being around the birthing bed (she heard that some even fainted) and left their wives alone to labour. She was glad that Farkas was made of stronger stuff than that. Half of her wanted to kiss him and the other to kill him for getting her pregnant in the first place. 

For now, she did neither and instead she just leaned into him and pushed when Danica ordered her to.

The child arrives into the world with a loud piercing wail which is barely heard over Signe's own scream. She'd collapsed boneless then with a small sob of relief. 

"A healthy girl!" Danica pronounced, cleaning the babe off with a wide smile "You've done well, Signe. Sometimes the first child can kill a mother because they aren't prepared."

She twisted her head to grin at Farkas and he smiled back at her with an expression half way between awe and pride. 

 _We did it,_ she thought, _We're parents!_

Danica held their daughter out and Signe took her as gently as she could, remembering to support her head like the healer had shown her before. 

She was a beautiful thing, their daughter. Her head was capped in dark hair with just a few tinges of auburn and her eyes were big and green like Signe's own. She felt her heart swell just looking down at the babe.

"Valkyrie." she said "I want to call her Valkyrie."


	5. Learning

To say that Argis disliked the College of Winterhold would have been a gross understatement. He couldn't stand the place.

He was a warrior, not a scholar! He had never had the patience for learning anything that didn't directly relate to combat (by the Eight, his father had tried with him). Being surrounded by books and people who much preferred to study magic than actually _use_ it seemed like a complete waste to him.

Then there was the quiet. It was the worst part, in his mind at least. Whenever he walked around, the clanking of his armour suddenly seemed deafening and he'd gotten more than a few glares from the mages and a stern talking to from that woman, Mirabelle, or something similar. 'Delicate experiments', his ass. 

In the three months he had been at the College, he could only recall one instance of raised voices and that was when one of the other mages (that damned Khajiit) had given Korra a scroll which was supposed to set fire to undead but ended up making her own robes catch fire as well. She refused his help in dealing with it and had instead spent a good half-an-hour screaming at the Khajiit. It had taken all Argis' self-restraint not to strangle the cat and use his fur as a rug. 

Besides that incident, things had been fairly uneventful. Utterly _boring_ , in his mind at least.

Korra, of course, was her cheery self. She loved it and Argis supposed he could understand her view. She was in the presence of some of the best mages in Tamriel and all of them willing to pass on as much knowledge as possible. He was sure of he were a mage he'd probably feel the same...but he wasn't and so Korra continued to be blissfully happy whilst he tried to make the best of things.

Sometimes he couldn't decide whether he liked the woman or despised her. Sometimes he thought that maybe it was a bit of both.

"Argis..." He was pulled out of his thoughts by Korra's voice, at some point she had looked up from the spell book she had been reading "I asked you a question."

"I'm sorry, my thane, I didn't hear you." he replied. He pretended he didn't see the was her mouth twisted in a frown when he called her 'thane' despite her repeated attempts to get him to call her by her given name. He'd been well trained in exactly how he should act around his charge and it was difficult to set aside years of training for one woman.

"I said, you know something of how to handle a sword, right?" 

Argis had the resist the urge to roll his eyes at that. A bit of a stupid question when right now he had a sword strapped to his hip. 

"I do, yes." he replied shortly "Why?"

Korra set her book down and twisted her fingers nervously "It's just...There was this new spell I wanted to test out. I thought it would be good for fighting and such...it'll allow me to conjure my own weapons...and I was wondering..." she trailed off for a few seconds before she finally blurted out:  " _Iwantedtoknowifyou'dtrainmehowtouseasword_."

Argis blinked in surprise. He liked to think that he knew Korra fairly well...well, at least somewhat anyways. She didn't seem like the kind of person interested in any kind of combat training. She loved learning, he knew that, but it was always magic or matters relating to magic. Imagining his charge attempting any of the training he'd been given as a youth seemed inconceivable to him.

At his silence, her cheeks turned dark red and she mumbled "I'm sorry...it's a stupid idea. You don't have to--"

"N-No, my thane--" 

"Korra." she mumbled.

"Korra. It's just...are you sure?" he asked. She looked up at him and he couldn't miss the hopeful glint in her eyes. If he denied her now he was sure he'd probably feel incredibly guilty about it. With a small sigh, he nodded "I'll teach you."

She gave a small squeak of happiness and he couldn't help but smile.

\--------------------------

They practised together every morning, before Korra left for her lessons, and evening, just before dinner.

The only place with enough space and privacy that Argis could find on such short notice was the roof. He was sure that he and Korra were the only ones who ever ventured up there. Apart from that blasted Thalmor snake, who came up just to complain that a College was no place for a warrior like him and he should leave before he pollutes the College with violence...some nonsense like that.

Thankfully, he and Korra were left alone for the most part.

He quickly discovered that his new student was utterly clueless when it came to combat. When he handed her the wooden practice blade he'd bought from the local trader, she could barely lift the thing without both hands. Her knowledge summed up was 'stick them with the pointy end'.

However, Argis knew Korra and she was a fast learner.

Within a week, she was able to catch the blade and hold it one-handed as well as some very basic techniques. The look of unbridled glee on her face was worth the frustration of trying to teach something which seemed like second nature to him.

If anything, the College of Winterhold was a lot less boring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Argis and Korra because I feel like it.
> 
> Ten points to whoever spots the hidden shout out in this chapter.


	6. The Traveller's Blessing

May you walk in sunlight and never in shade,  
May happiness find you and all sadness fade,  
May your fortunes be many and your grievances none,  
May there always be mead when your day is done,  
May the Nine Divines smile on you and all who you know,  
May you always find comfort in the ice and the snow,  
May you always find friendship wherever you roam,  
And may you always find a road to lead you to home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah...cheesy, I know.
> 
> This is just a little idea I had. You know those Irish blessings 'may the road rise to meet you' and all that...what if there was a Skyrim equivalent. As for the rhyming that was a case of 'I might as well just throw it in'. I don't claim to be a master of poetry but eh.


	7. Freyja

Morthal was out of the way. Quiet. Secluded. No one would look for her here. She would shut herself away and that would be the end of it. In a few decades time, no one would even remember she existed.

Freyja couldn’t help what she was but she could protect others from herself.

She bought a small cottage at the edge of the marshes and set to work rebuilding her life. 

She started a small garden for alchemy ingredients (they never had a garden in Dawnstar, the Pale was too cold for everything except snowberry bushes) and started learning a little magic. Restoration magic called to her most. Maybe, one day, she could sell her wares as a healer. Maybe when she was good enough she could join the Temple of Kynareth in Whiterun.

Maybe she could earn forgiveness.

_I will not be a monster,_ she vowed, _I will be better than that._

When her hunger did become too great for her to control, she retreated deep into the marshes and hunted deer. Killing an animal, while it wasn’t the best solution, weighed a lot less heavily on her conscious than if she had accidentally killed a person.

Freyja was nothing if not determined to make the best of her bad situation.

Most of Morthal’s citizens treated her with indifference. She was known as the strange girl who lived on the edge of town and barely left the house. She lived alone, had no family that they knew of and just tended to her garden and offered some medicine and healing spells to anyone who wanted them. All in all, she was unremarkable and Freyja preferred it that way.

But even Morthal wasn’t removed from trouble. News travelled very slowly to Morthal. The only way Freyja learnt of what was going on in the wider world was the occasional traveller or merchant who came through the town telling stories of dragons. Other than that, Morthal was far removed from most of the troubles that plagued the rest of Skyrim. 

When they heard that the Greybeards had summoned a Dragonborn to High Hrothgar for the first time in centuries, they thought little of it. It didn’t concern them. True, everyone was amazed for a while and there was some talk of who this Dragonborn could possibly be but soon everyone forgot about it..

Then there was a situation with another woman, Alva, who it turns out was also a vampire. She was eventually killed as well as another girl and another vampire who Alva was reporting to but the damage had been done. Freyja had kept her head down even further after that. 

Vampires were quickly becoming a problem that Skyrim’s citizens could not ignore.

When Freyja heard that a group of vampire hunters named the Dawnguard had been formed, she locked herself in her house in a panic. She knew that a vampire hunter would be able to pick her out immediately. She would be as good as dead if they ever passed through Morthal.

However, when members of the Dawnguard did come, it was only to pass through the town on the way to a more major city like Windhelm or Solitude. She had escaped by the skin of her teeth.

And then again, everything went quiet and life resumed its normal routine. Occasionally they would hear about dragon attacks in places such as Kynesgrove or vampires preying on the road, but otherwise things were just as they had always been.

It had been over a year and a half since she had moved to Morthal when she heard of her family again. Of Signe. 

She remembered that she was in the tavern, simply enjoying some wine and soaking up the atmosphere when Benor burst in. Freyja remembered that everyone had gone quiet when Benor started yelling and gesturing madly sprouting about how the Dragonborn had slew the World-Eater, Alduin.

_“The Dragonborn did it!” Freyja remembered him yelling “She did it!”_

_“She?” she remembered someone else speaking up “I heard the Dragonborn was a man!”_

_“No! It’s a woman…I think her name was Sigyn or something.” Benor waved him off._

_“Signe?” Freyja suggested, her heart in her throat._

_“Aye, that’s it. Signe.” Benor nodded._

Freyja could remember sitting in her house later in shock. She always knew that Signe had been special, their father’s favourite child even though he tried to disguise that. Somehow, it didn’t seem like a great shock to find out her sister was the Dragonborn of legend, the one they grew up hearing stories of.

Even though she was sure Signe hated her, Freyja was proud of her elder sister. She was a hero.

\----------------------------------------------

A few weeks after that, Freyja was awoken in the night by a knock on her front door.

She rarely had visitors, especially so late in the night. Unless someone was dying and in need of a healer, she couldn’t think why someone would wake her in the middle of the night. When she opened the door, she found a woman standing on her porch. Her eyes were bright luminous gold, like Freyja’s own when she looked in the mirror each morning.

_A vampire! She’s a vampire like I am!_

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“Is your name Freyja? I was told that there was a woman named Freyja living here.” The strange woman returned. Freyja’s brows furrowed in confusion. Someone was looking for her, she would have suspected that the Dawnguard had caught up with her if the other woman wasn’t a vampire herself.

“I’m Freyja.” She said “And who are you, may I ask?”

“Serana.” The other woman introduced herself with a kind smile “I’m a friend. It’s taken me a while to find you and I’m glad to see I’m the first.”

“First?” Freyja echoed, her confusion deepening “Other people have been looking for me?”

Serana’s smile faltered “The Dawnguard. They…they had suspicions that a vampire was hiding in Morthal. Mutilated animals have been turning up at the edge of the marshes and they were going to send someone to check it out. I’m just glad I got here first.”

Freyja’s eyes widened and she swallowed the lump which had formed in her throat. She knew she couldn’t hide here forever. She knew that one day she would be found.

“W-What should I do?” she questioned, her panic seeping through and making her voice tremble “Where am I supposed to go?”

“Come with me.” Serana said her voice was kind and soothing “I’ll help you. Keep you safe. You can trust me. May I come in? We have a ways to go and not much time to get you out of here.”

Numb and terrified, Freyja opened the door wide to let the other vampire into her home. She didn’t question how she knew where to find her or how she knew the Dawnguard were heading this way. She was too frightened to think straight.

“A friend of mine owns a large house in the Pale. It’s not that far from the border with Whiterun. We can live there safely.” Serana said, picking through her meagre possessions and beginning to pack what she deemed valuable or useful.

“T-The Pale?” Freyja’s voice trembled. She didn’t want to go back there. She didn’t want to remember what happened there. But staying in Morthal would be a death sentence if the Dawnguard found her and Serana seemed to have gone to great lengths to find her and then to make sure she escaped the Dawnguard’s grasp.

Without another word, Freyja began grabbing clothes and helping Serana pack her alchemy supplies.

Within an hour, they were on horseback and riding away from the little cottage beside the marsh. Freyja watched as her home disappeared over the hills and tried to repress the sadness that welled up in her chest and pushed tears to her eyes. She shouldn’t be surprised that she would have to leave eventually…she just wasn’t prepared for the day when she actually had to.

But she was still alive and Serana had promised that she would stay for as long as she wanted her company. It was strange to have another person around after being on her own ever since her parents’ deaths…but it was nice.

Freyja could rebuild again. She was good at that.

She would rebuild her life again in the Pale and live in peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may not remember Freyja from _Before Darkwater_ but she's Signe's little sister. She was turned into a vampire by the same vampires who killed her parents and Signe disowned her when she found out.
> 
> Yeah, I decided I was going to be nice to her.
> 
> Plus, she may be making an appearance soon in another of my fics so I decided to write something to show what she has been doing all this time whilst Signe has been busy being the Dragonborn.


End file.
